Christmas Part 13

This life is most jolly!

UNDER THE HOLLY-BOUGH

CHARLES MACKAY

Ye who have scorned each other, Or injured friend or brother, In this fast-fading year; Ye who, by word or deed, Have made a kind heart bleed, Come gather here!

Let sinned against and sinning Forget their strife's beginning, And join in friends.h.i.+p now.

Be links no longer broken, Be sweet forgiveness spoken Under the Holly-Bough.

Ye who have loved each other, Sister and friend and brother, In this fast-fading year: Mother and sire and child, Young man and maiden mild, Come gather here; And let your heart grow fonder, As memory shall ponder Each past unbroken vow; Old loves and younger wooing Are sweet in the renewing Under the Holly-Bough.

Ye who have nourished sadness, Estranged from hope and gladness In this fast-fading year; Ye with o'erburdened mind, Made aliens from your kind, Come gather here.

Let not the useless sorrow Pursue you night and morrow, If e'er you hoped, hope now.

Take heart,--uncloud your faces, And join in our embraces Under the Holly-Bough.

CEREMONIES FOR CHRISTMAS

ROBERT HERRICK

Come, bring with a noise, My merry, merry boys, The Christmas log to the firing, While my good dame, she Bids ye all be free, And drink to your heart's desiring.

With the last year's brand Light the new block, and For good success in his spending, On your psalteries play, That sweet luck may Come while the log is a-teending.

Drink now the strong beer, Cut the white loaf here, The while the meat is a-shredding; For the rare mince-pie, And the plums stand by, To fill the paste that's a kneading.

SANTA CLAUS

ANON

He comes in the night! He comes in the night!

He softly, silently comes; While the little brown heads on the pillows so white Are dreaming of bugles and drums.

He cuts through the snow like a s.h.i.+p through the foam, While the white flakes around him whirl; Who tells him I know not, but he findeth the home Of each good little boy and girl.

His sleigh it is long, and deep, and wide; It will carry a host of things, While dozens of drums hang over the side, With the sticks sticking under the strings: And yet not the sound of a drum is heard, Not a bugle blast is blown, As he mounts to the chimney-top like a bird, And drops to the hearth like a stone.

The little red stockings he silently fills, Till the stockings will hold no more; The bright little sleds for the great snow hills Are quickly set down on the floor.

Then Santa Claus mounts to the roof like a bird, And glides to his seat in the sleigh; Not the sound of a bugle or drum is heard As he noiselessly gallops away.

He rides to the East, and he rides to the West, Of his goodies he touches not one; He eateth the crumbs of the Christmas feast When the dear little folks are done.

Old Santa Claus doeth all that he can; This beautiful mission is his; Then, children, be good to the little old man, When you find who the little man is.

THE CEREMONIES FOR CHRISTMAS DAY

ROBERT HERRICK

Kindle the Christmas brand, and then Till sunset let it burn; Which quench'd, then lay it up again Till Christmas next return.

Part must be kept wherewith to teend The Christmas log next year, And where 'tis safely kept, the fiend Can do no mischief there.

DECEMBER

HARRIET F. BLODGETT

I

Oh! holly branch and mistletoe.

And Christmas chimes where'er we go.

And stockings pinned up in a row!

These are thy gifts, December!

II

And if the year has made thee old, And silvered all thy locks of gold, Thy heart has never been a-cold Or known a fading ember.

III

The whole world is a Christmas tree, And stars its many candles be.

Oh! sing a carol joyfully The year's great feast in keeping!

IV

For once, on a December night An angel held a candle bright.

And led three wise men by its light To where a child was sleeping.

THE FESTIVAL OF ST. NICHOLAS

MARY MAPES DODGE

We all know how, before the Christmas-tree began to flourish in the home-life of our country, a certain "right jolly old elf," with "eight tiny reindeer," used to drive his sleigh-load of toys up to our housetops, and then bound down the chimney to fill the stockings so hopefully hung by the fireplace. His friends called him Santa Claus; and those who were most intimate ventured to say, "Old Nick." It was said that he originally came from Holland. Doubtless he did; but, if so, he certainly, like many other foreigners, changed his ways very much after landing upon our sh.o.r.es. In Holland, St. Nicholas is a veritable saint, and often appears in full costume, with his embroidered robes glittering with gems and gold, his mitre, his crosier, and his jewelled gloves.

_Here_ Santa Claus comes rollicking along on the 25th of December, our Holy Christmas morn; but in Holland, St. Nicholas visits earth on the 5th, a time especially appropriated to him. Early on the morning of the 6th, which is St. Nicholas Day, he distributes his candies, toys and treasures, and then vanishes for a year.

Christmas Day is devoted by the Hollanders to church-rites and pleasant family visiting. It is on St. Nicholas Eve that their young people become half wild with joy and expectation. To some of them it is a sorry time; for the saint is very candid, and, if any of them have been bad during the past year, he is quite sure to tell them so. Sometimes he carries a birch-rod under his arm, and advises the parents to give them scoldings in place of confections, and floggings instead of joys.

It was well that the boys hastened to their abodes on that bright winter evening; for, in less than an hour afterwards, the saint made his appearance in half the homes of Holland. He visited the king's palace, and in the self-same moment appeared in Annie Bouman's comfortable home.

Probably one of our silver half-dollars would have purchased all that his saints.h.i.+p left at the peasant Bouman's. But a half-dollar's worth will sometimes do for the poor what hundreds of dollars may fail to do for the rich: it makes them happy and grateful, fills them with new peace and love.

Hilda van Gleck's little brothers and sisters were in a high state of excitement that night. They had been admitted into the grand parlor: they were dressed in their best, and had been given two cakes apiece at supper. Hilda was as joyous as any. Why not? St. Nicholas would never cross a girl of fourteen from his list, just because she was tall and looked almost like a woman. On the contrary, he would probably exert himself to do honor to such an august-looking damsel. Who could tell? So she sported and laughed and danced as gayly as the youngest, and was the soul of all their merry games. Father, mother and grandmother looked on approvingly; so did grandfather, before he spread his large red handkerchief over his face, leaving only the top of his skull-cap visible. This kerchief was his ensign of sleep.